He and She
by rumblerumble
Summary: The Doctor comes back to an older and wiser Rose tyler. Forever isn't possible for them anymore. Eleven/Rose.
1. Chapter 1

She is forty years old.

She no longer lives in London, or the United Kingdom, or even Europe. Instead, she's rooted herself in sunny southern California, close to the Mexican border. Here, the heat is constant, sweltering, sometimes suffocating and oppressive, but she likes it. She likes the feeling of being almost bleached out by the sun, teetering on the edge of reality.

She lives in a small, sleepy beach town where everybody knows each other and the population is in the double digits. Her home, an old bungalow built in the 1920s and in need of constant maintenance, is just a stone's throw away from the beach.

The irony isn't lost on her – for a long time, beaches only served as reminders of a very raw pain. She had been away from the coast for so long that she began to fear it, until she stood on this Californian beach ten years ago. She stood there, feet deep in the cold sand, waves swirling about her calves, and she laughed.

Rose Tyler stopped running.


	2. Chapter 2

When he comes back, it's a hot autumn day. There's a knock on her door and when Rose opens it, she is angry.

He is not the Doctors of her past; he's somebody different – leaner, twitchier, younger. His long face is bright with the sheen of sweat, his floppy hair limp from the heat. A bow tie sits askew at the base of his neck and he shifts irritably in his heavy tweed jacket. His eyes, still familiar, are so bright. He looks at her with such tender affection and she is almost fooled.

"Hello," he says softly, a warm smile spreading across his face.

Rose stays where she is, away from him. It's a long moment before she finally breathes, "You."

Confusion flits across the Doctor's face. On the way over, he had imagined how their reunion would unfold – how he would say "Rose Tyler," or maybe "Rose Marion Tyler" – perhaps before she hugged him, maybe during their embrace (because there would obviously be a fierce hug of some kind), and then she would say something about his hair (not as great as before, but still great), most _certainly_ something about the bow tie, and he in turn would say, "Bow ties are cool," and she would laugh and when that laugh ebbed away, all that would be left would be that beautiful smile of hers, with a pink tongue caught in-between her teeth. Maybe she would even kiss him then. Or maybe before. Or maybe during. The thought of everything had made him so giddy that he had danced around the TARDIS console until he was breathless.

But everything had already gone terribly off-plan. The Doctor is almost at a loss, but he does what he does best – he improves. He dismisses the uneasiness in his gut and instead tries to lighten the situation, his smile growing wider, his eyebrows lifting high.

"Me!" he says, with a little flourish of his hands. Gesticulation usually made things better – made him charming and likable. He waits for Rose to break now, but she remains very, very still.

"The Doctor," Rose says, slowly.

He tries to ignore everything about that sentence: the extra word, the tone, the shortness. The Doctor is beginning to get nervous, but still he charges forward. He's come too far now.

"Guilty as charged!" he replies robustly, the grin awkwardly frozen on his face. He raises a hand, a finger, and redirects events as they should be, as he had imagined them to be. "Rose Ty–"

"Fuck off," she interrupts. She moves to slam the door, but the Doctor reacts swiftly and jams his foot in between the door and its frame. He bites back a yelp – she is deceptively strong.

"Two minutes," he blurts, desperate. "Just give me two minutes."

Rose gives him a sharp look.

"Right, sorry, sorry." He grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He clenches his fists and knocks one against his forehead. "Please, Rose."

Rose lets go of the door handle and she calmly stands there. Her eyes are dark and her lips are pursed firmly together, her jaw clenched. The setting sun is bright behind the Doctor and its rays hit Rose at a sharp angle. She's gold and almost burning. He is suddenly afraid of her. He instinctively takes a step back. This is not the pink and yellow Rose Tyler that he remembers. That Rose Tyler was spunky, naive, and _bright_. This Rose Tyler is hardened, burnt around the edges, indelibly wise, and _powerful_. He swallows. She is the big Bad Wolf.

"No," she says, voice low and firm. "Not today."

"Tomorrow then," the Doctor rushes on, before she can shut the door. "Tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, any time you want, just let me talk to you."

"No." Rose kicks his foot. "Move."

"I just need to talk to you," the Doctor continues. "I owe you that much, don't you think?"

"I'm not interested in your reparations," she snaps.

"Please," the Doctor insists. "I owe you quite a lot, I think," he adds quietly. He casts his eyes down.

The admission of guilt catches Rose off guard and her anger ebbs slightly, enough for her to ask, "And why should I even listen to you? Why does it even matter now?"

He studies the ground a little while longer before he raises his eyes to look at her. "Closure," the Doctor says finally, with a wry smile.

The corner of Rose's mouth twitches in agreement. It is a long and still moment before Rose finally says, "All right, let's talk –" The Doctor smiles and moves to step inside, but Rose puts a tanned arm in front of him. "– Next week," she finishes.

He's surprised only for a moment, but he recovers and he steps back with a small smile. "Next week, Rose Tyler," he says, raising a finger.

She doesn't return his smile, but she does raise a hand goodbye. "Don't be late," she says and closes the door.


	3. Chapter 3

When she tells the him to come back in a week, it is because she is genuinely busy. She knows she could have made time to see him sooner, but she is long past the point of rearranging her life for him. She almost expects him not to show up and almost wishes him not to, but he surprises her when he does and on time.

"Am… I… late…?" he gasps. His body heaves as it leans against her door frame. His coat is draped over one arm and the sleeves of his red gingham shirt are rolled up to his elbows. His collar is loose and the bowtie is even more askew than yesterday. Sweat has slicked back his hair and it stains the underarms of his shirt.

She can't help but let out a little huff of laughter. "No," she says. "Did you park far?" She pokes her head out to look down the street, looking for the TARDIS.

"We showed up nearly a mile away," the Doctor says. "I had to run. As you can see." He fans himself with his hand.

Rose pulls herself back in and then steps aside. "Come in."

"Thank you," he says. He enters, closing the door behind him, and his discomfort rises immediately. The house is cool, a welcome oasis from the dry heat outside, but the hallway is narrow – too narrow – and he feels trapped. He fidgets uncomfortably in the tight space. "Do you want to go see the old girl?" he asks suddenly. "She's changed quite a bit, went through a little bit of redecor–"

"No," Rose interrupts, turning. "I'll get you a glass of water."

"Ah, yes, that'd be good, thank you," he murmurs. He follows her down the hallway, which then opens up into a wide space that encompasses both the living room and kitchen. He spins around as he steps along, taking in everything.

Rose's home is small and spartan and bright. There is little furniture: two armchairs (one white, one brown), an end table, a lamp, a wooden table with four wooden chairs. Everything else is empty space. The floors are a dark, creaky hardwood and the curtains that shut out the heat and light are a white linen. The walls are white too and just as barren. He spies a book with a bookmark stuck in the middle, a black notebook, and a pen on the blue-tiled counter of the kitchen. There is a brown woven rug with frayed edges in front of the sink and he can just imagine Rose standing there, washing her plain porcelain dishes, her bare feet planted firmly on that rug.

Rose pulls a pitcher from the refrigerator and pours him a glass of water. He drinks nearly all of it. "Thanks," he says, wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand.

He sets the cup down and studies Rose, who leans against the counter, her arms and feet crossed. She is barefoot and dressed plainly in a white t-shirt and khaki shorts. Her hair, no longer dyed but left alone to its natural dark color, hangs loose about her face, which is clean of all make up. The sun has has brought out the freckles across her cheeks and nose. Who he remembered her to be is entirely absent and the Doctor realizes that she is nearly a stranger to him as he is to her.

"You look… different," he says clumsily.

"Speak for yourself," she responds. "What number is this?"

"Eleven."

She nods. "How did it happen?"

"Radiation poisoning. To save a friend." He pauses, tilting his head. "How did you know it was me?"

"I could recognize you anywhere," Rose says.

The Doctor bobs his head. "Yes, you would," he agrees, shying away underneath her steady gaze. He begins to move, tapping the countertops, wringing his hands, twisting his head in all directions, looking in all nooks and crannies, and pacing impatiently along the length of the kitchen floor.

"Would you like to sit?" she asks.

"No, no, I'm fine," he says, forcing himself to stand still. "Tell me, what do you think of the bowtie?" He grasps the end of it and wiggles it at her in an attempt at levity.

"It's fine," she says.

"Well, bowties are cool, Rose Tyler," the Doctor says, reflexively. He wishes she would argue with him or even agree with him, but she only nods indifferently.

"So now you're here," Rose says. "In this parallel universe. Nothing bad is going to happen?" She frowns in mock concern. "No... big bang?"

The Doctor perks up. "No! Not at all! A wonderful thing happened actually, you see. Had to burn up a couple of suns, but –"

"Stop," she interrupts, raising a hand. "Save your breath." She inhales deeply. "All right, Doctor, here's your two minutes. It had better be good."

"Oh, right then." The Doctor sucks in a breath, gathering courage, and he furrows his brow. "Rose Tyler, I –" he begins, and he starts to reach for her, "– I love you."

She stares at him in disbelief. And bursts out laughing.

He recoils.

"Oh my God, are you serious?" she asks between laughs. She looks at the dumbstruck Doctor and hoots. "You _are _serious! My god, this is fucking unbelievable."

"I-I-I thought you'd be –"

"Happy?" Rose fills in. "You thought I'd be happy? Well isn't that sweet." She wipes away the tears from her eyes and sobers quickly. She holds up a hand, her forefinger and thumb forming a ring. "This is how many fucks I give."

The Doctor struggles to keep up with the present. "Rose," he says, a severe frown on his face. "I don't understand. Listen to me –"

"No, you bastard, you listen to me," she says coolly. Her voice is level but rife with vehemence. "You left me on that fucking Norwegian beach over twenty years ago without so much as a goodbye. You left me behind with a duplicate of yourself as a replacement, using him as a puppet to say something you should have had the balls to say yourself. Asking "Does it need saying" then and hoping that saying "I love you" now does not give atonement for your bloody actions. It's been twenty-one fucking years, Doctor. I've moved on."

The Doctor swallows as the silence expands in the room. "You… swear much more now," he squeaks out meekly.

Rose laughs, deep and guttural.

He shakes his head, hands at his temples. "I-I don't understand; y-you _kissed him!_ He was me, he had the same memories, just one heart. I-I thought I was doing the right thing – I thought –" He stops short and looks at her. "What happened to him?"

The mirth fades from Rose's face. "He died," she says shortly. "He died, like humans do."

"How did he die?" the Doctor asks.

"He had a stroke," she replies. "He was part human – it was too much for him, just like it was too much for Donna." A tremor runs through Rose's voice, but she composes herself. "It was very sudden and then it was too late. I had to sign the papers." She smiles faintly. "I did love him, though," she admits, tenderness in her voice. "But I loved him for him, not as you. He was a different person. I had been waiting so long to hear those words that when he said them in my ear, it was so easy to fool myself. He looked just like you."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor says softly. "I didn't know. I could feel it though, when he was gone."

Rose stiffens. "So is this why you came back – to pick up where he left off?" she asks dryly.

"No!" he exclaims, startled. "No, no, I came back because-because we're were meant to be together. You and I, we're the stuff of legends."

"Yes, we are," she agrees. "But we are different legends with different endings." She pulls away from the kitchen counter with a note of finality. "All right well that was lovely, your two minutes are up."

He shakes his head vigorously and starts to move again, pacing, his shoes clacking against tiles. "This is not… this is not how I imagined… not how I was expecting," he stutters.

"What did you honestly expect?" Rose asks. "That when you came back things would just be _rosy_?" She smirks at her own joke. "You were always the optimist. Did you think I'd drop all my things and come running away with you like before? That I would still be that stupid young girl who loved you so unconditionally?"

"Yes!" he shouts. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Twenty years ago, yes," she answers. "But not now. Once you sent me away to Pete's World without even asking. Then I spent years looking for a way back to you and when I did finally find you, I found myself back here, yet again. You gave me a "gift" of a person, thinking somehow that would make things right. You have made decisions for me, Doctor, time after time and I am tired of it."

"I-I-It was the only way!" he stammers, frustrated. "I did it for you! I did what was best for you, that's all I wanted. How do you think it made me feel? It was tearing me apart, did you know that? No, you didn't understand, you never understood! People, _your family_, _he_ needed you in that universe. The universe was falling apart, I had a duty to go fix it and then there was Donna, I had to save her from her own self. I had to save everyone!"

"And so you did. You figured out how to make things all better, didn't you?" Rose smiles thinly. "It's okay, Doctor. There's no mess to clean up here. I'm happy."

"You certainly don't _seem_ very happy," he mutters.

She ignores his comment. "I've moved on, Doctor, just like you moved on too. New new new Doctor with his new new new new new companions."

He shakes his head again. "No no no no no _no no no NO_," he shouts. "This is all wrong; this can't be happening; you can't be _like _this!"

She lets out a little huff of laughter. "But this is very much me, Doctor," she says simply. "You and I are no longer what we used to be – you of all people should understand that."

"I had so many things to tell you, to show you," the Doctor says, his voice small. "I came back because I love you. I still love you. I can't forget you. Everywhere I turned, I thought of you. I wanted to complete what we started so many years ago. The stars, the planets – Barcelona. Finally Barcelona." He looks at the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"That stuff?" Rose is nonplussed. "You would have just gotten tired of me. We've never been together for longer than a couple of years. Imagine if we had stretched out our time to five years, to ten, fifteen. It wouldn't have lasted."

"You don't know that," the Doctor says. "You were supposed to stay with me forever, don't you remember?"

She laughs. "What a fairytale!"

"But don't you see, the impossible has happened!" The Doctor steps towards her, his hands pleading. "It's a sign! I've crossed the Void, the universe is safe, I'm here now! How much more do I need to explain it to you?"

"Yes, why don't you try that – why don't you confuse this silly ape with your timey whimey bullshittery? Go on, say it."

"Stop it!" the Doctor snaps, his open hands collapsing into tight fists. "Just stop it – stop being so fucking cruel! I know I made mistakes! But you made mistakes too! You-you-you _trapped _me, you _overwhelmed_ me, I couldn't stand it – even after all I did for you! My tenth self was for _you_, and don't you forget that, Rose Tyler! I died for you and then I lived for you – don't you dare say that was for nothing!"

"No, it wasn't," Rose agrees sadly. "It meant the world to me. I loved you so much then."

"I couldn't! I just couldn't! You were asking so much of me! I told you – you can spend the rest of your life with me but I can't with you. It hurts too much! It breaks my hearts! But you never understood that; you refused to. You were miserable to be around, trying to force me to be domesticated, eyeing me, flirting with me, dropping hints, being so goddamn territorial! And Mickey! Poor, stupid Mickey – you treated him like shit and by some kind of miracle he stayed with you like a dumb puppy. Thank god he married a sensible woman who gave him the respect he deserves!"

She bristles. "Well, I'm sorry then, for being nineteen and falling in love with you. I know I treated Mickey badly, but I've made my peace with him now. But now what does it even matter – I don't love you anymore, I'm tucked safely aside in a parallel universe, and you are free to do whatever business you want."

"No! I-I-I can't!" He paces, his hands flying violently about his body. "At first I had thought stupidly that perhaps if I had reciprocated a tiny bit, just the slightest, it would be enough for you, that it keep you at bay, maybe keep myself at bay, but instead you were insatiable! I couldn't control myself too and then I tried to tell you that it wasn't meant to be, you and me – I tried to hold off your advances, fuck, there was Reinette even, but, but –"

"Wait." She narrows her eyes. "You're telling me you acted the way that you did so that I would back off?" She chuckles, genuinely amused. "Well now I've heard it all. You were just throwing me a fucking bone all those years!"

"Oh for _fuck's_ _sake_, Rose Tyler!" He explodes and rushes at her. She doesn't flinch, though he towers over her, his chest heaving, his nose only centimeters away from her face. She locks and holds his gaze, challenging him, and he is the first to turn away.

"That was the plan, you see," he says softly. "My stupid plan. But it didn't work. I began to fall in love with you too. You were an emotional, immature, needly little bitch and yet I still ached for you." He raises his eyes back to her. "The first time in Norway. It was the worst day of my life too."

"How poetic," she says.

He closes his eyes. "Tell me," he says. "Tell me what you want."

"Leave me." She leans closer to his face and he opens his eyes to see the dark pools of hers. "Forget me." It's meant to be a challenge.

His body shifts, twitches, to do something, but she raises a hand to his chest as if to still him. The double heartbeat pounds hard against her fingertips and small smile twists her lips.

"You were the first and last face I saw then," he says. He leans into her touch and she spreads her fingers out, feeling the heat of body underneath the whole of her hand. "How could I forget you?" he asks.

"Give it enough time," she says simply.

"Please," he says. "I can't leave you. Not again. Not this time."

"I'm not leaving again," she says, stubbornly.

"Then I'll stay," he blurts.

They are both surprised at the words. He, because there was no hesitation on his part, and she, because she never thought it in his character to do so.

She recovers first and laughs. "Don't be daft. You wouldn't last a day. Also, I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity," he argues.

"I am not to be used to ease you of your guilt –"

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor says firmly. "I have burned suns for you, I have crossed the Void for you, all in the hopes to be with you once more. I am here because I want to be and if I have to stay to be by your side again, then so be it."

She raises an eyebrow. "You're a lunatic," she states.

He laughs and he dips his head. "Yes, I'm just a mad man –"

"– with a blue box," she finishes.

The Doctor lifts his head and his eyebrows twitch together. Rose drops her hand away from his chest. She looks at him hard, her lips pressed tight into a thin line, her eyes searching his. It is almost too intense for the him; he has never been so examined before and he feels naked and vulnerable. But he forces himself to hold his ground though his mind screams at him to move, to break the moment.

His patience rewards him – after that insufferable long while, she blinks, and the tension disappears. She smiles at him, though it's grim and guarded. He lets out a breath and he takes a step back, as if she had just released him. She extends a hand and he takes it – it still fits his so perfectly – and squeezes it tight and gives it a little shake and he smiles back.

"Welcome to California," she says.

* * *

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

He slips into her life effortlessly, folding perfectly into the empty spaces of her life. Rose keeps a careful distance between them. In the beginning, she is guarded and sometimes shy, remaining close-lipped around him. She finds the reality of him – being there, by her side, with her – hard to grasp. She does not tell her family or friends that the Doctor has come back. He likes that; he only wants her anyway.

The Doctor learns about this new and older Rose by simple observation (this is the quietest he has ever been). He does not dare to interfere with her daily routines and rituals. There is something heavily sacrosanct about her and her world. He notices how slow her life has become. Her town is a sluggish and relaxed one with little activity within its borders. She keeps herself busy with work (she works as a librarian) and volunteering (homeless and animal shelters). She owns not a car, but a bike and uses it extensively. He buys himself one to keep up with her and they spend an afternoon refreshing his memory ("So it is true what they say about riding a bike," he says happily as he pedals alongside her).

Rose herself is different too. She moves differently now, her movements more fluid, her steps almost weightless. Her speech is quieter, the timbre of her voice lower and her accent has shifted into something new. She has aged, but not by much; twenty-one years has barely left a mark on her. Only her eyes are older. There is still something slightly unreal about her that he can never seem to pin down.

The Doctor fights the urge to run. He has promised himself and her that he will stay and he intends to keep that promise. When she sleeps, he waits in the dark, hands folded across his stomach. He can feel it all, the ticking seconds, the turn of the earth, and the sounds fill his head. In the dead quiet, the pull of everything is so much stronger. He thinks back to his TARDIS, thinks of possible travels and adventures, thinks of all his friends. He misses his not-so-distant past and he thinks how easy it would be to slip out in the middle of the night and slip back in before she wakes. He thinks of sneaking away every night, but with every morning, he finds himself still stretched out on her couch.

And that is how Rose finds him every morning too – still there. Each time, he sees the shadow of surprise pass over her face, though it begins to fade. Rose smiles at him, the next morning's smile a little bit warmer than yesterday's.

"Good morning," she always greets.

"Good morning, Rose Tyler," he always replies. "And what are we going to do today?"

* * *

TBC

A/N:

I've been a long time lurker of fanfiction and I wasn't particularly compelled to publish any of my own until recently, so please excuse any noob mistakes... Anyway, if people are interested, here's a little backstory for the motivation behind this fanfic: I rewatched Doctor Who recently and the whole Rose/Doctor thing left me feeling very annoyed (and enormously sad). This is basically my silly way of "mending" the whole thing.

I don't really have a set structure to this story, but there is definitely an ending (ironically, it was one of the first things I wrote and is patiently waiting to be uploaded as I figure out the middle bits). Eventually there's just going to be a chapter of just drabbles that fits somewhere in this separate world of theirs.

Thank you for reading and thank you for your patience.


	5. Chapter 5

This morning is like every other morning, he thinks to himself as he waits for her to wake up. This should bother him, he knows, but there's a certain charm about predictability that he is enjoying. _For now_, a voice nags to him. He doesn't want to argue with himself, so he ignores it.

She wakes up and he smiles at her as she rounds the corner, asking his usual question. She gives him a small smile as she passes him on her way to the kitchen. Today she is dressed in a loose gray sweater over black pants and the Doctor thinks how he likes the change in her color palette and fashion choices. When he first arrived, he thought pink had disappeared from her life altogether, until he snooped and found a stick of hot pink lipstick lying on her dresser stand. He uncapped it and twisted the bottom, grinning when he saw the flash of color and how it was nearly all gone.

He patiently waits for her answer, watching as she begins her morning routine: she drinks a glass of water, puts on a pot for tea, toasts a slice of bread, and finds a piece of fruit to eat.

"Banana?" she offers, holding one up.

"Nah, I'm good," he declines. He starts guessing at what they'll do today. She's been talking about surfing lately. He glances out at the window, sees the bright light of day. Maybe it would be a beach day; good day for a picnic. Perhaps she will take him to that taco truck she had been raving about recently. He hadn't had a fish taco – a good fish taco – in quite some time. He hears the pop of the toaster and watches as Rose butters it. She takes a bite.

"No jam?" he calls from the couch.

"Not today." He's a little disappointed. Strawberry jam would taste fantastic, he thinks.

"What is for today then?" he asks. "Will we go surfing? Can't say my balance is good enough for that and I don't know about how I am in water necessarily, but –"

"We're going to the TARDIS," she interrupts.

He bolts upright, eyes wide and hearts beating hard. "What?" The tea kettle whistles.

"Relax," she says and she removes the pot from the stove. She pours herself and him a cup. She walks to him and hands him the cup. "I just want to say hello."

The Doctor lets out a breath. "Ah, of course," he says. He takes the cup and blows on the hot liquid as she sits beside him. He's surprised that he feels almost relieved by her answer. He has been here for nearly a fortnight and he has come to enjoy this new life of Rose Tyler's. "She'll be happy to see you," he says.

They walk together to where the TARDIS is parked, unmoved since the beginning, sitting in the middle of a park's unused baseball field. When it comes into sight, Rose's feet stall. She stops, a good distance away.

He holds out his hand. "Come on," he coaxes. "She's waiting."

She looks at his hand, then back to his face, then back to his hand. He can tell she is deliberating. A moment too long passes. He begins to drop his hand, but suddenly she reaches out and clasps his. Her hand is warm and he squeezes her hand comfortingly. They walk to the TARDIS' front doors and he can already feel his ship vibrating with anticipation.

"Shall we?" he asks gently, reaching for the handle.

But Rose raises her hand and snaps her fingers. The TARDIS door swings open. He gapes at her and she coyly smiles and steps inside.

They stay for only a moment – long enough for her to walk around the new console three times. She runs her hands over the new knobs and levers and buttons. She looks heavenward, her eyes following the center column. She says nothing about the redecoration and she doesn't venture down any hallways. She makes sure she can see the door from the corner of her eye.

"Hello, old girl," she says and the TARDIS hums in return. Rose smiles and she rests a hand on the center column. She digs into her pocket and pulls out a key – the key that he gave her so many years ago. The string it hangs on is frayed and broken. She sets the key down on the console and then steps away.

She walks over to him and takes his hand again. She swallows and says, "C'mon, it's a long walk to that taco stand I've been telling you about." He nods, understanding.

She shuts the door behind them. "Goodbye," she whispers and she plants a kiss on the blue wooden door.

* * *

A/N: I should point out that I've been writing this fic on and off for the past six months, which is why updates have been happening rather frequently. I try give myself a chance to do some last minute edits before I upload it onto here. So please be patient if updates suddenly slow to a crawl. I will do my best to complete this before the new year. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

She asks him if he fancies a day at the beach one morning.

"Oh yes, that sounds good," he says. He looks down at his clothes. "Although, I suppose I would need to change."

"Yeah, unless you want to roast away in the sun," she says before sipping her tea. "You brought some extra clothes, didn't you?"

"It'll require some effort," he says, eyeing the overpacked suitcase by his feet.

He changes into a tshirt and swim trunks, though not without complaint ("I feel so _silly_," he says, plucking at his clothes). Rose laughs at him ("It's only temporary," she says and the Doctor replies, "Good, because I quite like the bowtie.") and tugs on his arm. She hands him a Stetson hat to appease him ("Now that's more like it," he says happily) and they walk to the beach in a lazy stroll. He has never moved so slowly in his life. A voice nags at him, saying, _You should be running_, but he pushes it aside. _There is time_, he reasons with himself. _There is finally time_.

They stay at the beach the whole day. He accidentally learns how to body surf and she floats in a sea of kelp. As the sun begins to set, they wrap extra towels around themselves and watch the sky burn red. Rose thinks back to another lifetime ago when she watched the end of the world. She would like a hand to hold, she thinks, but remains still. As if reading her mind though, the Doctor reaches over and grasps her hand tightly in his own. He smiles at her and brings her hand to his mouth, planting a kiss on her knuckles.

They sit there for a long while, long enough that the sky turns red to blue. She leans her head against the his shoulder and he presses his face into the crown of her head.

"You miss it," she says.

He knows what she's talking about. "Yeah, I do," he replies honestly, looking at the sky. "Don't you?"

"Sometimes. But I know enough."

He lets the words sink in before pulling away from her so that he can look at her properly. "You're not Rose Tyler anymore, are you?" he says.

She smiles sadly. "I am still her, but I am Bad Wolf more," she admits.

He studies her face, bright even in the dusk. "I thought I had taken it all out," he says.

She shakes her head. "Bad Wolf is stronger than you. She hid away, deep within me. After you left and after he died, she came back and she grew. She almost snuffed out Rose, but now we are at a balance."

"So then you still –"

Rose tilts her head back to look at the sky. "I still see what could have been and what is to come. I feel the turn of the earth underneath my feet now. I feel the universe, this one and the one before and the one after. I feel it all." She closes her eyes briefly. "It drove me mad. Bad Wolf would go away, but she would always come back, each time stronger than before. It was a long time before I could control her. I understand her now."

The Doctor looks at her in anguish. "You… you could have changed so much then."

"Yes, I could have, but I didn't." She looks at him again. "Time can be rewritten," she says, echoing his own words. "There was so much I wanted to change, but it's not my time or place to do so. I remain latent, waiting."

He stares at her. Though she is right beside him, she seems so removed from him and this space. He doesn't know when she shifted from being Rose Tyler to Bad Wolf. He feels shy, suddenly in the presence of this oracle. "Do you know about –" he starts.

She nods. "You? River? Amy and Rory? Of course. They were wonderful, weren't they?"

He turns his head. The guilt stabs him. "Amy and Rory, did they –" He clenches his jaw.

She puts a comforting hand on his arm, but the touch is unfamiliar. "They were happy," she says simply. "They set a place for you every Christmas."

He smiles. "Yes, they would." The smile fades. "Each one… each one of them…"

"Fantastic and brilliant and cool," she soothes. "Amy, Rory, River, Martha, Donna…" She lists them all. "They made you better, Doctor."

He wants Rose Tyler back, not this omnipresent demigod. "You made me better," he says, in an effort to tether her back to what he knows.

She scoffs at that, but the aura around her dims. "We _all_ made you better. And the rest of them will continue to do so." She leans near him, but his discomfort rises and he pulls away from her.

"I don't want to keep losing them," he says. "I can't."

"But you will. That is your reality – your curse." There is no pity in her eyes.

He bends his head, shuts his eyes tight from her gaze. "Then I will lose you too. Again."

She nods, her face serene. "That is now our future." He opens his eyes to look at her, a desperate, unasked question hanging, but she shakes her head. Bad Wolf fades before him. Rose places a hand against his cheek and he leans into her touch. "And that cannot be rewritten," she whispers and draws him close.

* * *

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The chapter of drabbles. They are not in any chronological order.

* * *

He wants to know more about his old self, his cloned self.

"Why?" she asks. She is stilly wary of him. "Isn't he supposed to be you?" she asks rudely. He gives her a hurt look.

"I'm sorry," he says. "He was different, wasn't he? He wasn't me."

"You're not even you," she says simply. "He was a shadow of what you were, just like how you're a shadow of yourself." She stands up and walks over to the counter, picking up the black notebook. She pulls out a photograph from its pages and hands it to him.

It's a picture of the two of them, Rose's hair still blonde and him still in a blue suit. It's a posed picture and they are both smiling.

"We were happy," she says. "I wasn't lying about that. But it wasn't as easy as you wanted it to be. As any of us wanted it to be."

"You were married," he says suddenly, looking up at her.

She smiles fondly. "Yeah, we were. We loved each other."

He looks back down at the picture and smiles. He believes her.

* * *

When they make love for the first time, it is over incredibly soon. They are still clothed and they both laugh into each other's skin at their explosion.

"Round two?" she pants.

"Clothes off?" he replies, but doesn't bother to give her a chance to respond.

* * *

They visit Rose's favorite store, a large, used bookstore that she frequents so often that she has an open tab. She rarely buys books though; if she does, she is buying them to expand the collection at the library where she works. Instead she browses. She'll often collect a large stack and then tuck herself into a corner, in one of the large soft leather chairs. She does this today while he strays away. He's surprised to see that there are even enough books for him. It makes him think of the library in his own TARDIS and how long it has been since he last visited. He makes a mental note to spend more time in there when he goes back.

She finds him sitting on a stepstool reading about the indigenous flora and fauna species of Southeast Asia. She crouches next to him and the Doctor tilts the book so that she can see the delicately drawn illustrations.

"This world, you humans – it's so wonderful," he says softly and she smiles tenderly.

* * *

They are strangers at first. Rose is a good host to him, polite, courteous, but severely guarded and suspicious. The Doctor knows she is waiting for him to leave when she is prepared for it and can be less hurt by it. But he doesn't want to leave and he tries his hardest to make that known to her.

It isn't until one afternoon that they fall back to what they once were. He builds a habit of taking long walks around the neighborhood and today he has the misfortune of accidentally antagonizing a flock of geese. He sprints down the sidewalk and spots Rose, heading home. He grabs her hand, yelling, "Run!" and in an instant she is matching his long strides as they flee down the road.

They round a corner and sneak into an alleyway, gasping for air. She hears the honking of the geese and laughs at him and the Doctor laughs with her. They walk back home and she is still holding his hand.

* * *

They retire early one day, due to a freak rainstorm. They build a fire and Rose makes a plain dinner of chicken and rice. Afterwards, she brews strong coffee for the both of them. They sit beside one another on the couch, their shoulders touching. When the Doctor steals a glance at Rose, he sees a ghost of a smile on her lips. Rose catches his look and he burns his tongue when he tries to hide his own smile by drinking his cup of coffee.

Suddenly, the Doctor twists his body and plants a firm kiss on Rose's lips. Rose laughs and she feels the Doctor's lips split into a smile against her own. His mouth is hot and he tastes like burnt sugar.

* * *

She confesses to him that she's gone back more than once. The Dimension Cannon is in her cellar, but she hasn't touched it in several years.

"You crossed the Void?" he asks. "When?"

She shifts her gaze away from him. "Pompeii cracked a rift in time," she starts and the realization dawns on him.

"The Christmas tsunami, Haiti, Fukushima," he lists quietly.

She nods. "After the tragedy at Fukushima, I realized I had to stop. Who am I to do such things?" She turns her head, ashamed.

He holds her hand, unable to answer.

* * *

She has a collection of oldies classics and they start dancing to "Sweet Caroline" by Elvis Presley. He slips the disc into the stereo while she is making dinner (heating up canned soup and toasting more bread). He lures her out of the kitchen as the song swells up into a raucous jam inside her home. He grabs her hands and their feet start moving to the beat. He spins her, he dips her, her arms clutch tight around his neck. They are breathless with happiness.

She says she loves him only once during his entire stay. They are eating ice cream in the park. She turns to him and says, "I love you. I really do." He thinks at first she is playing with him, but the tone of her voice is distant and somber. "I'll always love you," she continues quietly. "Until the end of time." Then she smiles at him.

He doesn't have a chance to respond because ice cream leaks from his cone and she hands him a napkin.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for being patient, kind readers. The story's almost over - two more chapters.


	8. Chapter 8

He is not there one morning.

She stands in the hallway, staring at the empty space before her. She had not known that it would happen so soon. She steps over by the couch, where always waited for her – even if he had spent the night with her. Her eyes trace the faint imprint of his body on the fabric. She allows herself to feel the pain of loss once more, but only for a moment. She doesn't feel angry, not anymore. She was given a second chance, after all. Lucky her. She takes a deep breath and then goes into the kitchen, moving back into the rhythm of her routine. She drinks a glass of water, sets a pot on the stove for tea, pulls out a slice of bread from the bag.

She is finishing her toast when her front door swings open and he steps noisily through with bags of groceries in his arms.

"What the…" she trails off, staring at him.

He returns her gaze, but he's overlooking her shocked expression. "Good morning, Tyler," he says brightly. He sees the last bit of bread crust on her plate and his face wrinkles into a frown. "Oh, I'm late." He sets down the bags on the counter.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asks, trying to regain her composure.

"I went to go get you breakfast," he says, leaning over the counter and poking the remains of her toast. "I've seen you eat nothing but bread and fruit for the past twenty-two days and the routine is getting a little dreadful. You could also use the protein." He reaches into a bag and pulls out a carton of eggs and shakes it. "Ah well, tomorrow then," he says casually and begins to put away the groceries.

She laughs and shakes her head a little. "Oi, hold on a second – what is this all about?" she asks, watching him as he tosses bacon, eggs, onions, tomatoes, oranges, and an enormous watermelon into the refrigerator.

He turns to her abruptly with an excited smile. "Rose Tyler, I am treating you today!" He kicks the refrigerator door shut with his foot and strides over to her. "You have planned every single day and shown me your world. I think I've learned enough to take you out."

"Is this a date?" she asks.

"Yes, a proper date." The Doctor beams.

"Been awhile since the last," Rose teases.

"Years! But better late than never!" He kisses her forehead. "Come on, Tyler, no time to waste! We got a long day ahead of us!" He grabs her hand and pulls her towards the door, but then suddenly halts. "Wait!" He turns around and looks her up and down. "We can't have you running around in your jim jams, can we?" He takes her by the shoulders and spins her around. "Go change into whatever you're supposed to wear on a date," he instructs, and shoves a laughing Rose towards her bedroom. "And don't take forever!" he yells.

When Rose returns, she's dressed simply and plainly in black pants and a dark navy blue shirt, a black cardigan draped over one arm. The Doctor nods approvingly as he looks her over, but his face bursts with a delighted smile when his eyes reach her face – she's put on that hot pink lipstick and it looks fantastic.

"You look beautiful," he says.

She smiles and she threads an arm through his. They step out into the bright daylight and Rose closes the door behind them. He pulls her towards the street and dangles up a pair of keys.

"No…" she says, following him.

"Oh yes," he replies, waggling his eyebrows. He's walking backwards and he stops next to a badly parked green car. "Say hello!" He leans against the frame and gives it a resounding thump on against the top.

She laughs and puts her hands on her hips. "You're kidding me! How did you manage that?"

"Psychic paper," he says, holding it up.

"Psychic paper, right, of course," she repeats. She walks around the car. "Do you even know how to drive?" She peeks in and notices the car is manual. She points at the gear stick and looks at the Doctor with raised eyebrows.

He gives her a look bruised look. "Rose, I can drive a TARDIS," he emphasizes.

She eyes his parking job. "TARDIS or otherwise, you're still shit at parking," she says.

"Get in," he says, ignoring her.

Their first stop is the bookstore, but it takes a long while to get there. The car lurches and shudders and stalls multiple times. The Doctor shouts, hits the dashboard, pumps the pedals, and twists the steering wheel. His movements are jerky and the seat and car can barely contain his floundering and all the while, Rose sits beside him, laughing at his trials and errors. By the time they reach the bookstore, he has more or less understood the mechanics of driving. He parks crookedly in the lot, taking up two spots, and gives a withering look to her before she can even comment.

"What are we getting here?" she asks as she takes a hold of his hand.

"Books! The best weapons in the world," he says.

"What for? I work in a library," she protests. "I can read all the books I want."

"Yes, but your bookcase is about as empty as your fridge," he says and pulls her through the door.

She can't argue with that.

He buys their books ("Where did you get money?" she asks as he hands over twenty singles. "I operated a lemonade stand with a lovely little girl named Emily while you worked," the Doctor says. "You really should buy some cookies the next time she comes around." Rose rolls her eyes) and then he drives her north and inland. They have a picnic in the desert, eating smashed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in a little oasis. She makes faces at him as he tries to figure out how to work her camera phone and he uses his sonic screwdriver to then only cause her phone to spark and malfunction. They have a good snog afterwards (the hot pink lipstick smudged across both their faces). They stretch out in the shade and read their respective books and when she gets drowsy from the heat and a full stomach, she rolls over to fit into the crook of his neck. Even the Doctor closes his eyes and falls asleep too, his open book covering his face.

Their next stop is hours away and he drives along the coastal highway, the road hugging the edge of the cliffs. They exchange stories and there is no bitterness and jealously in her face when she hears of all the adventures he had after her. Instead, her curiosity shows through and he answers all her questions about the different worlds and species and events he encountered.

"It's amazing how you're still alive," she says, shaking her head.

"Don't jinx it," he says and he's only half-joking.

By time their stomachs growl, they are almost to their next stop. He has to admonish her for her impatience ("You're driving like an old woman," she says, pointing to the speedometer. "Really, 45 on this road?") though he begrudgingly steps on the gas pedal. He won't tell her where their next stop will be, saying that if she just _waits_ for another ten minutes, she'll find out soon enough.

They start their descent from a hill and round a corner and then Rose spots it – a tiny beach shack with hand painted signs and Christmas lights strung up along its windows. A line of people leaks out of its small door and the parking lot beside it is filled with parked cars. The smell of herbs and the sea fill the air and she sits up excitedly in her seat.

"Fish and chips!" she exclaims, her face beaming.

"The best ones on the west coast," he tells her proudly.

She leans over and kisses his cheek. "Brilliant," she says. "You're brilliant." She adds another kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He pulls into the parking lot and is blessed with an easy spot that only requires him to drive in a straight line. They wait in line patiently and order the house special. The chips are piping hot, crispy on the outside and and steaming and pillowy soft on the inside. The fish are generous chunks of sole coated in a beer-batter, deliciously moist on the inside and seasoned well. They sit outdoors underneath heat lamps and face the dark ocean as they eat their dinner. A wind picks up and their hands begin to chill, but they make sure to finish their dinner and lick their fingers clean of all the oil and salt.

They drive back home, their bellies warm and Rose dozes off. Even the Doctor fights off sleep in the dark of the night and the warmth of the car. He is left alone with his own thoughts and he concludes, smugly, that he is happy. But his mind wanders and he thinks about all the potential outcomes of a single life – how perfectly content and wonderful it could be lived, like the one he has been living with her. This is something he will sometimes envy about humans.

_Why?_ his mind asks suddenly, interrupting.

He startles as the realization hits him with sharp clarity – humans can settle down, can be rooted, but not him. This is a life he can never have. He glances at Rose and he winces at the sight of her and all the _what could have beens_ that she represents. He reaches over and grasps her hand. It's the least he can do.

At home, they get ready for bed. They touch each other with heat and passion and the moment is so perfect, but he can't shake the uneasiness. _She was right_, he thinks. Losing people will forever be his curse. He shudders at the thought and the fleetingness of _all of this_ and he grabs at her, clutching her tight, sinking deep within her.

Afterwards he continues to hold her and she strokes his hair. "I know," she croons in his ear. "I know."

* * *

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

She knows that today is his last day. They sleep in, only waking when the room gets too hot from the early afternoon sunlight. He's barely awake and his mind is still foggy with sleep. He doesn't even know about his departure until she says so and the words that slip out of his mouth agree with her.

When his mind clears a second later, he tries to explain himself but she just tells him to shut up.

"No goodbyes," she declares.

They make love in hot afternoon. They relish each other's flesh. Limbs wrap around limbs, fingers graze, hands caress, mouths burn. Time drifts by languidly. Afterwards, they lie side by side, listening to one another's breathing. He feels his knuckles graze against hers and he threads his fingers through hers. He rolls over and embraces her.

"I love you," he murmurs into her neck.

"Quite right too," she says and the words sting.

He closes his eyes. "Come with me," he says. "One last adventure. Let me take you to Barcelona."

She shifts so that she is looking at him and waits until he opens his eyes. Rose shakes her head. "No," she says sadly. "My song has ended, but your story keeps going."

The Doctor understands. He has always known that this was how it would end; it would be she who made the decision and not him. He nods and presses himself closer to her damp skin.

"I love you," he repeats. "Do you know that?"

She smiles. "I lived and died for you," she says. "Of course I know."

She walks him to the door and kisses his cheek.

"Don't be alone," she whispers.

"Don't forget me," he replies.

"How could I?" she asks. She embraces him for a long while. As she pulls away, he kisses her and she holds onto him, for a few moments longer.

"What will you do, Bad Wolf?" he asks with a sad smile. He blinks back tears. "You'll live forever." He almost asks her to come with him again but he knows she'll only refuse. He knows that that isn't what she wants anyway – not anymore.

"I will be happy here," she says and he believes her. "I'll always be here, Doctor." She leans forward to kiss him once more.

"Rose, I –" he starts.

"We are the stuff of legends, aren't we?" she interrupts. "Perhaps we will meet again." She steps away. "Safe travels." Her eyes are bright with tears.

"Always."

They lean forward to one another for one last kiss and after it, they stay close, their foreheads touching. Their eyes are closed and they both hold their breaths before they can finally pull away. They repeat the final word, their voices overlapping.

"Always."

"Always."

The Doctor walks away, and he does not turn back. Rose Tyler watches him for a moment and then shuts the door.

END

* * *

Thanks for reading everybody! Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
